


love is louder than all your pain

by jujubiest



Series: SPN One-Shots [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Jack Kline, Fatherhood, Grieving Dean Winchester, Post-Season/Series 12 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest
Summary: Dean isn't sure what he was expecting when he stormed into the house, gun in hand. He only knew that Cas was dead, his mom was gone, and the reason for all of it had a bullet with its name on it.Somehow, he wasn't expecting to find a baby.
Relationships: Jack Kline & Dean Winchester
Series: SPN One-Shots [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/177362
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	love is louder than all your pain

**Author's Note:**

> Written on my phone last night as a tumblr musing during baby!Jack hours and somehow turned into a one-shot. Un-beta'd.

Dean isn't sure what he was expecting when he stormed into the house, gun in hand. He only knew that Cas was dead, Cas was _dead,_ his mom was gone, and the reason for all of it was waiting upstairs, begging for a bullet. But when he gets there?

It's just...just a baby lying there. Crying. His mom is gone, and his dad is a monster, and Dean doesn't see Lucifer or Cas, he sees...he sees himself. He sees Sam.

And the real Sam, now Sam, he's kinda frozen up, he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know anything about babies, he's poised like he's thinking of picking the kid up but isn't sure how and is afraid he's gonna break him. And the baby is screaming and Dean wishes he could scream like that because none of the pain or the anger has left him, he's still choking on it where he stands. But this is still a _baby_ and he's in _pain_ and Dean only knows one way to respond to that.

"Here," he says, setting his gun aside and nudging Sam gently out of the way. "Let me." And he picks the little guy up, supporting his head, and he looks around the room until he finds a blanket and wraps him in that the way he used to do for Sam when he was fussy. And by the time he's done the kid is quiet and looking at him with these big, sad, blue eyes, and oh god they're so _familiar_ , he doesn't know how but this baby has Cas's eyes, and that's when he breaks. That's when he holds this newborn to his chest like he's the only thing holding Dean together and cries like he doesn't cry, not ever, not since he was a kid himself and got yelled at for it.

He stays that way until Sam comes and tells him they need to do something about the...about the bodies, and he says it quiet and halting like he thinks the words will break Dean all over again, but they don't. There's no more breaking to be done, he's in pieces already, but this kid needs someone to take care of him and Dean knows how to do that. This is what Cas died for, so by god Dean is going to make sure he didn't die in vain.

He tells Sam to take care of Kelly. Sam gives him a worried look but doesn't say anything, and he's grateful for that silence. He waits for Sam to be done getting Kelly ready for a hunter's funeral, then hands the kid--Jack--off to him and shows him how to hold him right.

He goes downstairs. Carries Cas inside. Somehow stays standing long enough to wrap him up, doesn't let himself look too long at that cold, still face because if he does he might find there are pieces of him left still big enough to break after all and he can't. He can't be broken right now, not when there's this child who needs him.

He finishes wrapping Cas in his funeral shroud, sheets and curtains taken from the house. More tenderness in his hands than he ever showed Cas in life, and he hates himself for that. He takes Jack back from Sam and lets him do the work of building the pyre, moving the bodies onto it. Hands over his lighter and watches Sam light it, watches them burn, feeling hollowed out even as he bounces and rocks to soothe Jack, who is starting to fuss.

He lets Sam drive them back to the bunker. Lets Sam write the list of baby things they'll need, rattling them off from memory. Lets Sam go do the shopping while he sits and stares down at the tiny, helpless child who will depend on him for everything, every day, for years to come.

He's dreamed of being a father, wanted it even, but until now he didn't realize how much he'd assumed Cas would somehow be there if it ever happened. Now he can't help but picture how Cas might stare down at this boy with his eyes, bewildered and fascinated. He imagines the smile that would spread across his face at having his finger grabbed by a tiny hand...or the panicked look he'd shoot Dean's way at the first hint of a cry.

When Sam gets back he's humming Hey Jude and pacing around the bunker with Jack in his arms, both of them too restless for sitting still.

He doesn't do well with grief, with loss. Never has. But as Sam keeps taking cases and digging into all the lore he can find on nephilim, Dean falls into a routine of his own, centered entirely around Jack. He doesn't drink himself stupid or exorcise rage through violence. He doesn't yell or smash things or lash out at Sam. His voice is quiet. His eyes are sad. His hands are so, so carefully gentle. And as much as a part of him wants to hate Jack, hate the person Cas died for, he can't.

But he still misses him. He misses him loudly, in ways only Sam and a preternaturally powerful newborn can see. And maybe Jack misses Cas, too, misses the rumbling voice that accompanied his mother for all those weeks, the only father he knew before Dean and Sam.

Because it isn't long before Cas wakes up in the Empty with the fading sound of a baby's cry ringing in his ears. It isn't long before he irritates the shadow that lives there into letting him go, dumping him somewhere far away from home out of pure spite.

It isn't long before he's standing in front of Dean at the bunker door, looking into wide, disbelieving green eyes for a long, heavy moment before arms are pulling him close and holding him, hands on his face, relief in Dean's voice as he says "welcome home."

And then Dean gets to see just how right he was, how true the picture his imagination painted, when he draws Cas down the hall to his room--bare of weapons now but with a crib against one wall--to finally meet their son.

"He...looks like...." Cas trails off, fascinated bewilderment fading to pure joy as Jack grabs his fingers with both hands.

Dean just grins.


End file.
